Mystery Ride (10 page)

Horses don’t like to move backward. They especially don’t like to back into things like bushes. Carole pulled gently on Starlight’s reins. Starlight stepped back, using the same soft tread. When the rhododendron leaves brushed his flanks, he shivered.

“Easy, easy,” Carole whispered.

Starlight stepped tentatively backward, and the leaves parted. In four steps he was safe in the center of the bushes.

“You’re great,” Carole whispered, reaching down to stroke his neck.

Prancer was shaking her head from side to side. The idea of creeping backward into a stand of bushes was not something that appealed to the former racehorse.

Lisa rubbed Prancer’s neck. She was the most complicated and special horse she’d ever ridden. “You can do it,” she whispered.

Lisa pulled gently on Prancer’s reins. Prancer moved into the bushes like a champion.

“Now you,” Stevie whispered to Belle. “If they can do it, you can.” Belle was stubborn. She loved games, but she also loved to have her own way. She pawed at the soft earth, but then she relaxed and stepped back into the bushes, too.

“I know where we are,” Lisa whispered. “I’ve seen this house from the road. I know which road it is, too.”

“Good,” Stevie whispered.

“There’s a car in front of the house,” Carole whispered. “So there’s probably someone home.”

“If he isn’t out stealing saddles,” said Stevie bitterly.

A few minutes later they heard it—the sound of someone
whistling, a cheery sound. Stevie tried to identify the tune and realized that it was “Oh! Susannah.”

A man appeared with his hands in the pockets of a blue hacking jacket. He went into the ramshackle barn and came back in a moment, leading a bridled gray horse.

The man sprang lightly up onto the horse’s bare back, and headed …

 … straight toward The Saddle Club!

L
ISA
, S
TEVIE
,
AND
Carole couldn’t move. They couldn’t speak. They looked at each other, their eyes full of terror. But at the last minute the rider veered left and headed into the woods.

“That was close,” Stevie whispered.

“What happens when you faint on horseback?” Lisa said.

“Your nose winds up in the horse’s mane,” Carole said.

“Let’s go search the barn,” Stevie said. “It’s bound to be full of clues. And maybe even my saddle.”

Lisa didn’t agree. “If your saddle’s there now, it’ll be
there later. I bet that thief is on his way to steal another saddle. We have to stop him.”

Reluctantly Stevie looked at the barn. She wanted her saddle. She wanted to put it on Belle’s back. But she knew that Lisa was right. A crime was almost certainly about to be committed, and it was up to The Saddle Club to stop it.

They turned onto the trail.

“Look,” said Stevie grimly. She pointed to hoofprints on the ground. The gray horse was wearing bar-heeled shoes!

“Full speed ahead,” said Stevie. But then, not quite sure that this was a good idea, she turned to Carole and said, “Right?”

Even at such a serious moment Carole had to smile. Stevie was so filled with contradictions.

“The trail is clear, so we don’t have to worry about losing it,” Carole said. “And the ground is soft, so the horses won’t make much noise. And the wind is blowing back toward us, so we can hear the thief, but he can’t hear us. So, yes, full speed ahead!”

Stevie urged Belle to trot. She lengthened the reins to give Belle headroom and felt the mare’s pace lengthen, her steps beginning to glide.

Ahead Stevie could hear the faint clop of hooves. Through the trees came a whinny. It was high-pitched, excited-sounding.

Over her shoulder Stevie said, “Something’s happened. Let’s go.” She pressed her heels down, getting ready to give Belle the signal to gallop.

“What if he sees us?” Lisa whispered.

Over her shoulder Stevie gave her a fierce look. “This time I’m galloping,” she said. “I’m catching up to him.”

Belle took off, her feet pounding into the soft earth, sending up bits of leaves and grass. Carole, riding behind her, had to duck to avoid the spray.

Up ahead was a turn in the road. “Faster,” said Stevie. Belle stretched her legs, running in a smooth, even gait that showed her championship style.

Stevie braced herself as they went into the turn. It was like a racetrack, she thought. They were about to enter the homestretch.

Belle rounded the corner. Ahead, the gray horse was trying to escape into the woods. The thief was yanking the reins and struggling as the horse whinnied shrilly.

What was making the gray horse so crazy? To the left the woods thinned. Beyond that was a small apple orchard with very old, neglected, half-dead trees. On the other side of the orchard, an abandoned shed sat in the middle of a clearing. From behind the shed came a whinny.

The gray horse plunged and bucked, trying to head toward the shed. His rider leaned back, sawing cruelly on
the reins. The horse reared, his front legs pawing the air. Panicked, the rider leaned forward and pounded the horse’s neck. That did it. The gray horse crashed into the woods, toward the orchard.

Carole and Lisa came cantering around the corner and pulled up next to Stevie.

“Where’d he go?” Lisa said.

“He’s lost control of his horse,” Stevie said. “He’s crashing around in the woods somewhere. No way am I going after him. Belle could get hurt.”

“It’s good to see you can think of your horse at a moment like this,” Carole said. But then she got a funny look on her face. “You know, I have the feeling this place has something to do with the ransom poem. ‘Where once there grew a different kind of tree, I’ve hidden your pony,’ ” she recited.

“What?” Stevie said.

“When you plant an orchard, you have to cut down forest trees,” Lisa said thoughtfully.

“So here there used to be a different kind of tree,” said Stevie.

“And if we’d come from the other direction, we could have crossed the creek again. That’s ‘water twice,’ ” Carole said.

“Maybe the riddle does make sense,” Stevie said.

From behind the shed came a loud whinny.

“That’s Nickel,” Lisa said, her eyes widening. “I’d know his whinny anywhere.”

“Looks like we solved the riddle,” Stevie said with a grin. “I guess the best team won.”

Suddenly, from the far side of the clearing, they heard a commotion on the trail. The wind carried the distant sound of shrieking and giggling to The Saddle Club.

Jackie, Amie, and Jessica appeared, followed by Max.

“It’s Max,” Stevie said to Carole and Lisa. “Let’s go tell him what we found.” Carole and Lisa nodded, and the three hurried their horses through the thin woods. As they neared the orchard they could hear the younger riders chattering.

“We win!” Amie said. “We solved the mystery. Right, Max? Right? There’s Nickel. We followed the red yarn and now we’re here.”

“It seems you’re right,” said Max.

“We’re champions,” said Jessica. “We’re number one.”

A young man walked out from behind the shed, leading Nickel. It was Phil!

Stevie’s jaw dropped open, and she pulled Belle to a halt. Carole and Lisa stopped next to her.

“That sneak,” Stevie whispered. “That liar, that creep. He’s been here all weekend. His grandmother wasn’t even
sick. And I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I don’t want him to see me here. He’ll laugh himself sick.”

Lisa and Carole looked at Stevie with sympathy. First her saddle was stolen, and now this.

Phil was wearing a bright red sweater—and it had only one arm!

“Phil,” cried Amie delightedly. “You’re the crook.”

“None other,” said Phil, bowing. “You caught me red-handed.”

“And red-sweatered,” said Jackie.

Suddenly, Stevie remembered the familiar figure in red she had spotted at Pine Hollow on the first morning of the MW. It must have been Phil slinking around, she thought, groaning. She watched as Phil waved to Max.

“I guess Nickel could use some attention,” Max said to Amie, Jackie, and Jessica. “Although Phil’s been taking good care of him, I bet he’s feeling kind of lonely.”

“As a matter of fact, I just happen to have a carrot for Nickel,” said Amie.

“And I have an apple,” said Jackie.

“And I have a knock-knock joke,” said Jessica. As a little sister of The Saddle Club, she was crazy about knock-knock jokes.

The girls gathered around the pony. Meanwhile Max
and Phil led the other horses to the far side of the orchard, where there was a succulent patch of green grass.

“Okay, Nickel,” said Jessica. “I’ve got a really good one for you. Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” said Amie, talking for Nickel.

“Sam and Planet,” Jessica said.

The Saddle Club shook their heads. Jessica had the joke totally wrong.

“Sam and Planet who?” said Amie.

“Someone planted stinkweed,” Jessica sang in a loud voice. “In Redford O’Malley’s riding boots.”

Amie, Jackie, and Jessica collapsed in laughter.

“That’s the worst knock-knock joke I ever heard,” Carole whispered.

But Lisa gasped with fright. “Look,” she whispered.

The gray horse was barreling out of the woods toward the orchard and the clearing on the other side, where the little girls were standing. The horse’s eyes were rolling, and his face was flecked with foam. The rider clung desperately to the horse’s mane.

“We’ve got to warn them,” Carole said.

“Amie,” Stevie yelled.

But the wind carried her words away.

“Come on,” Stevie said. She shook the reins, pressed her knees tightly to Belle’s sides, and yelled, “Go.” No
time for subtlety now. Belle headed into the orchard, straight at the gray horse. “Keep going,” Stevie said. “Please!”

Horses hate to run into other horses, and Stevie was afraid that Belle would veer off. But Belle barreled toward the gray horse, with Starlight and Prancer close behind.

The gray horse shied, nearly throwing his rider. Snorting and spraying flecks of foam, the horse careened back into the woods.

The little girls weren’t aware of the drama that had just unfolded on the other side of the orchard.

“After him!” Stevie cried. This seemed to be all Belle needed. She headed into the woods.

“Go,” Lisa said, steering Prancer after them.

“Yes!” said Carole as Starlight took off.

Stevie ducked under a branch. There was a huge fallen tree up ahead. They’d have to go around it somehow. But Belle rose gracefully in a jump. The only problem was that she seemed to be rising directly into a hemlock tree. “Yikes,” Stevie cried. But Belle knew what she was doing. They missed the tree by a hair. Stevie let out a yell of triumph as Belle landed on the edge of an inky puddle, splashing Carole.

Carole couldn’t see. She had a funny taste in her mouth. For a moment she couldn’t figure out what had happened.
Then she realized she’d been mudded. She wiped the mud from her eyes and let out a whoop.

Lisa had her knees tight and her heels down. She was trying not to think about what was going on. She wasn’t ready for this kind of wild cross-country riding.

Stevie heard an anguished cry and a splash up ahead. She zoomed around the corner and pulled Belle to a stop.

The gray horse was still racing wildly, but his rider had been thrown. The thief had fallen in the creek and was yelling with pain.

Coming up behind Stevie, Carole swerved and stopped. Lisa nearly crashed into them.

The gray horse scrambled frantically up the shallow creek bed.

This was terrible, Lisa knew. A frightened horse running over slippery rocks could break a leg. Someone had to catch him … and she had the fastest horse.

Lisa took a deep breath and headed Prancer toward the creek, looking for secure footing. Daintily Prancer picked her way through the stones and leaped onto the other bank. There was a narrow path along the edge of the bank. Would it hold them? There was no choice. It was the only way to follow the gray horse.

“Easy,” she said to Prancer. “Nothing sudden.”

Prancer looked at the trail and snorted. Most horses shy
from narrow passages, but Prancer bobbed her head and started along the path, stepping evenly. Beneath her feet pebbles showered into the stream, but Prancer didn’t panic.

The path ended abruptly. The land dropped sharply downhill.

Desperately Lisa looked around. The other side of the creek was safer, the ground more solid, but it was far away. “Can you jump?” she said to Prancer. “I know it’s far.”

Lisa knew that standing jumps are difficult for horses. Usually they won’t make them. But Prancer sprang lightly across the creek onto the other side. Just as she did the gray horse bolted out of the creek bed and headed for a stand of pines.

“Go,” Lisa said to Prancer. She put her hands low and bent over Prancer’s neck, feeling the power of the horse’s muscular chest. Prancer ran through the pine forest, gathering speed. For Lisa, it was like being on a rocket.

They were on the edge of a field of winter grass. The gray horse streaked forward, trailing flecks of foam. Lisa knew she had to catch him before he disappeared into the trees on the other side of the field.